The Nightingale Effect
by Wyntir Rose
Summary: After Smokescreen is damaged in battle, Swindle takes it upon himself to repair his former partner, but Vortex may have other plans.


Smokescreen came online with a groan of pain as his systems came back from a cold boot. His entire body ached and throbbed but his mind refused to bring up the memory of what happened to land him in this state.

"Shh … Don't move, Smokey. Just stay put for a little longer, okay?"

The voice was intimately familiar and yet Smokescreen's fogged processor couldn't place it at all. He tried to online his optics but was met instantly with error messages flashing in a frenetic, staccato bead across his HUD, each one passing by far too quickly for him to properly grasp.

Gentle fingers traced the edge of his chevron and even softer lips were pressed to his in a kiss that managed to be both chaste and hungry. Something about those lips and those fingers were terribly familiar and on some level Smokescreen knew that gentle should not be the word associated with either.

No matter how hard he tried the memories refused to come, and finally he gave in and fell back into recharge.

Swindle breathed a sigh of relief as Smokescreen's optics flicked off and his engine started to purr softly. He was finally back in hibernation and Swindle could get back to work as best as he could.

"Damn it, mech, why'd you have to go and get yourself kicked by Menasaur?" he murmured more to himself than to his patient.

Smokescreen's injuries were severe and, really, he needed a medic, but there was no way in the Pit that Swindle would let Hook anywhere near Smokescreen, not when that hack couldn't be trusted to keep quiet. And approaching the Autobots was out of the question. No, all that he could do was help his former partner as best as he was able and hold up here in the Combaticon's base until he could come up with a better plan.

"Why in the name of the Unmaker am I even doing this?" he asked himself. "Not like I owe you anything. If anything _you_ owe _me_. Especially after that slag you pulled in Vos."

He shook his head as he sealed off a ruptured coolant line and began to search for the other leaks that he knew were in Smokescreen's chest somewhere.

"I should just hand you over to Onslaught and be done with it. Or sell you back to the Autobots. Bet I could make a good profit on you. Better than I got on my own teammates."

He continued to work as he talked to himself, but as he did his optics moved back to Smokescreen's spark chamber. Memories floated back to the forefront of his mind. There had been a time when that spark had belonged to him and only him. He and Smokey had once been really good together. Between the two of them they had been able to buy, sell, or steal everything in the galaxy that wasn't soldered down, and even then, there were always several creative solvents at hand. There was a time when he would have done anything for Smokescreen, and then the Praxian had to go and ruin it by growing a conscience and joining the Autobots.

"You promised me forever, Ace … You promised me forever and then you had to go and take it back …"

Another soft sigh escaped his lips as Swindle brushed aside the old memories. The past was the past and there was no getting the old days back. No matter how much he wanted them.

"You know you could always bring him back to Hook and get him properly repaired."

Swindle turned, gun instantly in hand as he shielded Smokescreen's prone form with his body.

"Vortex! I should shoot you for sneaking up on me like that!" Swindle snapped and for an instant he was very tempted to follow through with his threat.

"Yeah, but you won't," Vortex replied casually. "We both know that you don't shoot friends. Not for something as small as startling you. Besides, if you shoot me how are you gonna get _him_ back to the Nemesis?"

Swindle noted the sneer in the helicopter's voice as he referred to the Autobot but chose not to acknowledge it just yet.

"And why would I want to do that?" the smaller mech asked carefully, never taking his optics off the Decepticon's interrogator. Even though they were friends, there was no way that Swindle was going to trust Vortex. At least not completely.

Vortex leaned against the wall, the picture of relaxed confidence, but his optics never left Smokescreen's prone form and never ceased their vaguely insane glow.

"Oh come on, Stumpy. We bring Megatron an Autobot and we get into his good books," Vortex replied. "And this one's an even better catch since he's got all the Autobots' dirty little secrets locked up in his memory core."

"Besides," the helicopter continued with a shrug. "We all know that the other Decepticons are in need of a good shrink. Megs uses the robosmasher on him and we all get everything we want. I get to keep an optic on him, Megs gets his own personal psychologist to deal with his troops, and you get your bot-toy back. And after a little subtle reprogramming, he'll never leave again. We all win."

Swindle looked down at Smokescreen's prone form, taking in the lines and angles that he had once known so well. He ran the idea through his mind, looking at it from all angles, taking in all the possibilities, until he finally came to a conclusion. It was a good plan. Yeah, Smokey wouldn't like it, but a little reprogramming and he'd never know what he was missing. And it wasn't like Smokescreen didn't owe him big time for bailing on him in Vos.

"Tranform Tex," Swindle said with a grin. "And be careful on the flight back. I don't want any of my repairs jostled loose."


End file.
